Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

Kyle stepped forward, ready to intercept the monster.

But a voice called out—firm, noble, unmistakable.

"Kyle."

He halted. Turned.

Grand Duchess Amane stood tall amid the chaos, blood on her cheek and her silver mantle tattered from mana blast backlash. Her violet eyes didn't waver.

"Go. Focus on the shard. That's your mission."

Kyle's gaze flicked to the monster, then back to her. "That thing is going to tear through your entire line."

She inclined her head.

"Then we'll hold the line."

For a moment, the wind howled around them, carrying the stench of burnt mana and death. Kyle's expression hardened.

"If you fall—"

"I won't. And neither will they. We are not helpless."

She said, turning to the scattered soldiers behind her.

There was no time to argue. Kyle gave her a final glance, then turned away—vanishing toward the shard in a blur of light and wind.

As soon as he disappeared, murmurs broke out among the soldiers.

"Is she serious?"

"We're dead. We're actually going to die—"

"This is suicide without him—"

Amane raised her voice, sharp and cutting.

"Enough."

The battlefield stilled.

She stepped forward, eyes sweeping across their battered, broken ranks.

"You all saw what he did. And you cowered behind it. But you won't always have Kyle Armstrong here to save you. So pull yourselves together."

Her mana pulsed outward like a bell tolling in the air.

"Today, we stand on our own."

Melissa, panting, blood on her knuckles, stepped beside her.

"She's right. We don't follow Kyle because we're weak. We follow him because we believe in what he's building."

Bruce twirled his axe and grinned through the dirt.

"And I didn't climb out of poverty just to get stomped on by a walking beetle."

The bug-type monster shrieked and charged.

Its body was a grotesque fusion of carapace and corrupted flesh, its limbs cracking the stone with every step. A writhing sack of divine mana pulsed at its core.

"Form a triangle formation!"

Content sourced from MV4LEMPYR – My Virtual Library Empire.

Melissa shouted.

The troops moved, shields locking, mages taking cover behind them. Bruce surged forward to take the brunt of the monster's charge.

The clash was brutal.

The monster smashed into Bruce's shield like a mountain falling. He skidded back, boots digging trenches in the earth.

"You call this a bug? This thing's a walking fortress!"

Amane's eyes flashed.

"Now!"

She raised both hands and summoned a twin sigil of frost and flame.

Chains of freezing light erupted from her palms and latched onto the monster's limbs. It shrieked and reared up, but before it could rip free, Melissa leapt.

Mana surged from her blade.

She slashed down its shoulder, tearing open one of its carapace plates. Black ichor sprayed across her.

The monster retaliated—lashing out with a scythe-like claw.

Melissa dodged but wasn't fast enough. The claw raked her side, sending her crashing into rubble. She gasped in pain, biting down a scream.

"Melissa!"

Bruce roared.

He vaulted onto the beast's leg, jamming his axe into a chink. The blade bit deep, but the monster didn't falter—it bucked and tossed Bruce off like a ragdoll.

He rolled, coughing blood.

"Okay. That one's stronger than my last five exes combined—"

"Shut up and get up!" Melissa snapped, dragging herself to her feet, face pale but burning with fire.

Amane's mana blast's surged again.

She was casting threefold, sweat pouring down her face, her breathing uneven. Her magic pinned the monster just long enough for the foot soldiers to launch firebombs and mana lances.

But it wasn't enough.

The monster screamed and slammed the ground. A shockwave of corrupted mana exploded outward, knocking several soldiers off their feet. Mages collapsed from mana backlash. Shields cracked.

They were losing ground.

Bruce limped over to Amane. "Your Grace. We can't keep this up. Its mana isn't dropping."

"I know."

Her voice was hoarse.

Melissa pulled herself next to them.

"We need to destroy that mana sack on its chest. That's the source. Without that, it'll collapse."

Easier said than done. The sack was buried under layers of armored plating and twitching limbs.

Amane looked around. Blood. Fire. Dozens wounded. Morale faltering.

She gritted her teeth.

And whispered.

"We do this the hard way."

She turned to Bruce.

"You wanted to fight something bigger than yourself. Now's your chance."

Bruce blinked.

"...You're going to hate this idea, aren't I?"

Amane nodded.

"Melissa and I will open a gap. You go in. Rip that sack apart."

He sighed.

"Figures. Always the glorious bait."

She smiled faintly.

"Make it count."

The next moment was a blur.

Amane unleashed her last reserves of mana in a blinding pillar of flame. Melissa, drawing her second wind, screamed and drove her blade into the joint of the monster's shoulder. Armor cracked.

"NOW!"

Bruce sprinted.

Time slowed.

The monster turned—but too late. Bruce roared and leapt, using a slab of broken stone as a springboard.

He slammed onto the beast's chest and drove his axe into the mana sack with all his weight behind it.

CRACK.

The sack burst.

A howl of pain erupted, shaking the earth. The monster writhed, limbs flailing wildly. Black mist poured out of its wounds.

Bruce was flung off—but Amane caught him with a mana blast just before he hit the ground.

The monster staggered.

Then dropped.

Dead.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

No cheers. Just panting, coughing, and the sound of fire crackling. Slowly, soldiers began to rise. Injured, bloody—but alive.

Melissa dropped to one knee, breathing hard.

"...That sucked."

Bruce groaned from where he lay in Amane's barrier.

"Did I win?"

Amane walked to the fallen monster, looking down at its corpse. She was exhausted, her mana reserves nearly dry—but her back remained straight.

"We held the line."

The massive monster lay dead, its black blood soaking the earth, but there was no strength left to celebrate.

Grand Duchess Amane collapsed to one knee, her vision swimming. Her breaths came ragged, and her limbs felt like lead.

Melissa dropped beside her, wincing as her wounded side throbbed. Bruce, barely conscious, gave a weak thumbs-up before falling flat on his back.

The three of them were utterly spent.

And then the ground trembled.

From the broken ridges and smoke-filled cracks, smaller monsters began to emerge—skittering, growling, hungry. Drawn by the scent of blood, they crept toward the unmoving trio like vultures.

The soldiers saw them.

Fear gripped many. Their leaders had fallen. Kyle was gone. They were tired, injured, and disorganized.

But then one grizzled veteran stepped forward, slamming the butt of his spear into the dirt.

"They fought for us. Now it's our turn."

Another followed, raising his shield.

"Circle around them!"

Without needing command, the soldiers moved.

One by one, they formed a tight ring around Amane, Bruce, and Melissa. Shields locked together, spears braced outward. Their breathing was uneven, and many still bled—but none retreated.

"Reinforce the gaps!"

"Keep it tight!"

The monsters lunged—and were met with steel.

The soldiers grunted under the pressure, boots sliding back from the force of impact, but they didn't break.

Instead, they held.

A living wall of blades and resolve.

Inside the ring, Melissa coughed and managed a faint laugh.

"Hah… they're finally learning."

Amane smiled weakly, eyes half-lidded.

"Good… let them. We won't be here forever."

And as the monsters screeched and clawed in vain, the soldiers of the Grand Duchess stood firm—protecting the fallen, and proving they could.